


The Cry Baby

by Cat (ActualBuckyBarnes)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Anorexia, Biphobia, F/M, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Melanie Martinez - Freeform, Self-Harm, Songfic, this is some heavy shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 08:03:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8005006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActualBuckyBarnes/pseuds/Cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Welcome, to the fic based off of Melanie Martinez's album <i>Cry Baby</i>! Expect angst. And more angst. Thank you and goodnight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cry Baby

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY LOOK this could potentially be REALLY TRIGGERING for some of you and i really don't want to make you uncomfortable in any way. however, if you are looking for several moments of PAIN, then proceed.

Dan felt him open up to his parents and brother for the first time in years.

"Mom, Dad,"

"Spit it out," Dan's father growled.

"I- I'm bisexual." Dan felt his heart tighten.

"No, you're not," His mother's grin was tightly plastered on her skin.

Dan tried to defend himself- he tried he tried he tried he tried he _tried_ \- but instead he brought his knees to his chest, his face crumpled, tears made stains in his dark jeans.

.o0o.

Dan's friends hadn't been better.

"Fag!" They had yelled, shunning him. Dan shoved his hands into his pockets and walked away.

It was them. It was them it was them it was them it was _them_.

It wasn't them.

Dan escaped outside and into the forest surrounding the school.

The tears fell again.

 _Boys don't cry_ , he told himself.

"Are- are you okay?" A voice called. A pretty face rounded the corner.

"Y-yeah." Dan stuttered, hiccuping.

"I'm Phil. You are-"

"Dan." He said, tugging his knees into his chest even closer.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," Phil said.

Dan didn't believe him.

"How are you?" Phil asked. Dan shrugged, wishing he'd had some of his mother's alcohol to drink.

"Do you want a hug?" Phil inquired.

Dan felt guilty for accepting the hug.

.o0o.

He and Phil had become fast friends- and Dan was waiting for the inevitable question. The 'why were you crying?' that would ruin their friendship.

And, one day, it came. Only, about six months after.

"Hey, Dan, just out of curiosity, why were you crying when we first met?" Phil asked, passing Dan some mac 'n cheese.

"I- Phil," Dan felt his eyes watering again.

"Phil, I'm bi." Dan took a huge bite of Mac 'N Cheese to try to swallow the lump in his throat.

"Okay," Phil said, not needing to ask any more questions. He engulfed Dan in a hug, and Dan let out a squeak of surprise.

Phil hugged him.

Dan was okay.

Dan was okay Dan was okay Dan was _okay_.

"Thank you," Phil whispered into his best friend's ear.

"Thank _you_ ," Dan whispered back.


	2. Dollhouse

Dan slung his backpack onto the post of his bunk bed- the only thing he owned that he'd bothered to make his own. It was covered in graffiti, had a decent layer of stickers and paint and even some glitter- which Dan had proclaimed was accidental. 

It wasn't.

His mom was drinking. Like usual.

"Daniel," His mom said, "Get mummy some Whiskey from the kitchen please? Just how I like it!"

Dan recounted, _two fingers whiskey, one finger lime juice_ , and got his mom the drink.

Dan passed Adrian's room, and nearly coughed on the smell it emitted.

Dan passed his father's room and heard the bed creaking.

Keep walking keep walking keep walking keep _walking_ -

Dan kept walking. Back to his room, back to his laptop and his music and his books and his _music_.

Music was the one thing that made him feel whole. Like his mom didn't drink, like his dad didn't betray what remained of his mom's trust daily, like his brother still paid attention to him.

Like he wasn't missing a piece. Or ten.

Not even Phil could remedy him: only the magic of the countless musicians Dan had fallen in love with could.

Drum beats made him feel like his heart beat true, lyrics made him feel like he'd belong, in not now, then perhaps one day, melodies warmed his heart to the point where it was overheating and then the basslines made him feel like he could fly.

Dan did his homework- he always did.

Dan cooked- like he always did.

Dan called his family to dinner- just like he always did.

He and Adrian did the dishes- just like they always did.

After all, they were a perfect family. And perfect families eat dinner and talk about their days and say 'I love you' and kiss their sons on the cheek before sending them to bed and perfect families don't escape into music to avoid their _perfect families_.

And perfect families accept their sons. And perfect families live happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have realized that this reads like spoken word poetry. I like it.


	3. Sippy Cup

Dan didn't understand- he didn't want to, either.

The knife felt like a sigh of relief against his skin- but afterwards, afterwards, Dan always felt guilty.

Not for harming himself.

Because Phil wouldn't like him any more.

And Dan had had enough of his perfect family.

The perfect family that lied, the perfect family that cheated, the perfect porcelain family that lived on Gregory Drive.

Dan looked down at his stomach. His stomach was like his family- it wasn't perfect.

The perfect, porcelain Dan Howell had friends. The perfect, porcelain Dan Howell didn't need to run away- didn't want to.

The perfect, porcelain Dan Howell ate.

The perfect, porcelain Dan Howell didn't think about death all the time.

The perfect, porcelain Dan Howell didn't need music to feel alive.

Except, he did.

Dan knew Phil was worried. Phil shouldn't be worried.

Phil should mind his own business.

Phil was his perfect version though. And somehow, Phil wasn't porcelain. He was clay and water and human.

Phil Lester was warm. Radiant. Glowing.

Dan Howell was cold. Shivering and losing hair and still refusing to eat.

Phil Lester was beautiful. Black hair and icy eyes and wild stories.

Dan Howell was-

fuck.

Dan Howell was in love.

And Phil Lester was not.


	4. Carousel

Perhaps if Dan chased someone else, he'd never have to deal with his feelings for Phil.

Just like every aspect of his life, perfect, porcelain, beautiful Dan had answers.

And those answers were Abigail Melborne.

Big eyes. She had big brown eyes that Dan could call pretty and dresses that were always slightly too big and she had an interest in books and buried her head in fantasy.

Unfortunately, she wasn't interested.

Dan was, though. He was- he had to be- he _was_.

Dan's head raced with thoughts sometimes. It would've burned holes in his skull if he wasn't careful.

Abby liked Harry Potter. Dan liked Harry Potter.

"I'm sorry, Dan," Abby said, "Honestly, you're like a brother to me. It would be weird."

Dan was crushed. He was _absolutely_ , _positively_ devastated.

Phil's shoulders were warm and nice to cry on.

Phil wanted Dan to eat.

Dan knew that would make him fat, though.

Dan knew he was fucked up in every single way.

And yet, he was perfect. Porcelain. Beautiful.

Phil was perfect in his imperfections- which was something Dan hadn't encountered. Phil's laugh, though it made his face contort, was like rays of heaven peaking out.

Dan's laugh sounded like a hyena looking for its next kill.

When Phil cried it made Dan want to endlessly comfort him- when Dan cried, he felt empty. Crying made him numb. That's why he did it.

Emptiness is better than sadness. Than anger. Than hatred, than the venom that came with his perfect, porcelain, beautiful family.

But Phil wouldn't make him imperfectly-perfect.

Because Phil didn't love him.

And he didn't love Phil.

He didn't love Phil, he didn't love Phil, he didn't love Phil, _he didn't love Phil_.


	5. Alphabet Boy

Brittany was interested, so Dan was too. He was- he had to be- he _was_.

Brittany was so, so smart.

Dan was stupid. He knew this, she didn't hesitate to tell him this.

Dan was stupid. Add that to his list of inhuman imperfections: Self-destructive. Empty. Sad. Too thin. Too fat.

Stupid.

 _Stop_.

" _Stop this_ ," Phil would say to him, rubbing Dan's arms to try to get him to eat.

But Dan wouldn't eat. He didn't have control he was out of control he was out of control-

The knife felt like a sigh of relief against his skin.

Dan was in control. Sunflowers grew from his cracks, he bled _progress_. He was perfect. Beautiful. Porcelain.

Phil didn't see it that way. Phil saw ugly red marks, Phil saw ribs, Phil saw the salad Dan had brought for breakfast.

And lunch.

And dinner.

But Brit told Dan the truth. She said he was fat. Stupid. Lazy.

"Barely human," She snarled, waving her highschool diploma in his face, radiating superiority.

 _Two years,_ Dan reminded himself, _two years_.

Two years... until... what, exactly?

Proof that he was as smart at Brit?

Independence so he could get away from Brit? From his perfect, beautiful, porcelain family?

Would anybody care?


	6. Soap

A year and a half.

A year and a half until... what, exactly?

"Dan, you ass!" Brit yelled. Dan flinched. He'd broken his wrist at school, he'd tripped in the hallway.

It wasn't his fault it wasn't his fault _it wasn't his fault_.

It was all his fault.

"I'm- I'm sorry," Dan whimpered.

"I can't deal with you any more!" Brit nearly screamed, "Find somewhere else to sleep tonight!"

So Dan did.

Phil's shoulders were really nice to cry on.

"Dan, Dan what's wrong with your wrist?" Phil asked, picking up the wound, which hadn't been properly bandaged.

"Sorry," Dan whimpered again. _It was his fault-_

"Oh, Dan," Phil sighed, and Dan's heart fluttered. Phil looked like he was going to cry.

It was when Phil was bandaging Dan's wrist that he blurted it out.

Those three little, tiny, monosyllabic words that Dan would regret forever.

"Phil, Phil, I love you," Dan said. Phil's gaze snapped up, finished, and he dropped the bandage roll.

"Dan, I don't know what to say-" Dan knew what was coming. A _I don't feel the same way_ , a _get lost_ , a _goodbye_ , a final _no, we can't still be friends_.

Dan's eyes were watering again.

"It's fine. Don't say anything- I understand," Dan said, cradling his wrist as he walked away, frame smaller than Phil thought possible.

"Dan..." Tears were streaming down Phil's face, but Phil couldn't speak for crying.

Phil's mum held him that night, but Phil could only think about how much more _everything_ it would be to be the one holding Dan instead.

Dan slept in the room with his only possession, the bunk-bed that was undeniably _his_ , hugging his hoodie to his chest. In this beautifully perfect, porcelain world, Dan was cracked china. Worthless.

.o0o.

They grew distant. Phil tried to speak up, but every time he did, Dan would flinch away or Brittany would steal him away from Phil, or Phil would be left speechless.

Dan had stopped hiding his sleepless nights, his tiny meals, his perfect, beautiful, porcelain skin.

But porcelain cracks.

And Dan was about to fall five feet to the ground.


	7. Training Wheels

"Dan, I'm going to college next year, you're gonna have to graduate early if you want to come with me," Brittany said, pushing the class sign-ups in Dan's direction.

Dan had deep circles under his eyes.

He signed up for the extra maths classes, the second English class, the additional history lessons.

Dan hated it.

At night, Brittany demanded that Dan make her feel like a princess.

Dan didn't want to, he wanted to sleep, but Brittany insisted.

"You are an idiot. Don't you know that I have needs?" Brittany would ask, and Dan would give in.

However bad it got with her, though, it would always be better than his beautiful, perfect, porcelain family- but not really.

This was different.

Porcelain was breakable.

Brittany was more like steel. Like the kind you'd find on a bicycle, like the kind you'd find in a skyscraper.

Like the kind you'd find in a bear trap.

Dan didn't cry any more.

.o0o.

Phil didn't see much of Dan anymore- but what he did, he was disgusted by.

Dan was so thin Phil could see his ribs through Dan's t-shirt.

Brittany was always there.

Dan always wore jackets. No matter what.

Phil saw the remnants of scars and, sometimes, new ones, poke out of the jacket sleeves that Dan nervously pulled down.

Phil had to intervene.


	8. Pacify Her

Phil was angry. Actually, wrong word. Phil was _pissed_.

Phil was foaming at the mouth.

"How dare you," He snarled at Brittany, "How _dare_ you do these things to Dan? How dare you tell him he's anything less than beautiful and intelligent and hard-working-"

"Because he isn't!" Brittany fired back, "I know it, he knows it, _you_ know it-"

"He is perfect. He's perfect and he told me a long time ago that he loves me and I've never gotten to say it _back_ ," Phil said, killing the argument.

Brittany stood there in shock, mouth agape.

"C'mon, Dan, we're going home," Phil said softly, running his hands along Dan's chin. Dan followed, still reeling from Phil's talk.

.o0o.

Brittany wasn't done, though.

Even if Phil was doing his hardest to convince Dan to eat, that he was more beautiful with a stomach.

Even if Phil kissed Dan's wounds closed, kissed his scars until they faded.

Brittany was still there in the background, feeding Dan lies about himself.

"You'll never be perfect-"

"You'll end up just like your family-"

"You haven't talked to Adrian in so long-"

Dan wanted to scream. He wanted to cry.

But he didn't cry.

Because boys didn't cry.

Dan didn't cry.

No matter how much Phil told him that it was okay, it was unhealthy to bottle up emotions, Dan would never open up.

.o0o.

Phil was _pissed_. Phil was thrown into a rage every time Brittany's face dared to show up within a fifty-foot-radius of his boyfriend.

"You- you made him like this," Phil said, hissing his words with such malice that it surprised Dan, "You tore wounds into him that I am not able to repair. He doesn't believe he's worth the sun because of you."

"He's not," Brittany shrugged, kissing her new object's cheek.

"He _is_ ," Phil insisted, "Ten times over. You aren't worth the gunk on the bottom of his shoe."

Phil decided then and there that that was the last time either of them would talk to her.

Ever.


	9. Milk and Cookies

Dan was done.

Empty.

Death would be better, right?

Dan felt the knife run across his skin for the last time. Just like before, it was like a sigh. The kind you give on a summer day after a long run.

It felt like control.

Like what Dan deserved.

Dan eyes the pill bottle, ready to take them all.

"Dan?" Phil asked, knocking on the bathroom door, "You okay? You've been in there a while."

Brittany had been abusive- Phil was controlling. Phil was restricting Dan's only methods of _control_.

"Dan?" Phil asked again, slightly more frantic. Dan could hear the panic in his voice, making Dan question it.

"Would death be better?" Dan wondered out loud.

"Death- Dan?!" Phil banged loudly on the door, and Dan jumped.

"Would you mourn?" Dan asked, "Would you cry? Boys don't cry."

"I cry." Two simple words Dan didn't believe.

"I'd mourn." Dan didn't believe him.

"I'd cry until my voice wouldn't work. I'd mourn until the day I die- Dan, I _need_ you."

When Brittany had said that, it meant sex.

When Phil said it, it meant love.

Dan sighed and sat down on the floor.

He unlocked the bathroom door, and Phil burst in.

"Are you okay?" Phil asked, immediately picking Dan up and examining him. Phil peppered kissed on Dan's hollow face and cried tears of joy.

Boys didn't cry. 

Except, they did.

Phil cried and Dan cried, and they cried for a long time.

Phil caressed Dan's face, trying to find somewhere that wasn't stick-thin.

Dan was proud of himself. He was stick-thin. Pretty. Porcelain. Perfect.

"You need to eat," Phil pressured, "Please. For me. I can't cuddle you when you're all stick-and-bone." Phil grinned, pecking Dan's chin.

Dan was so weak he'd do anything Phil asked.

Phil managed to get Dan to eat a whole burrito.

Phil counted it as a major victory.

Maybe Dan was going to be all right.


End file.
